“I was sitting on the sidelines, watching the world go by.”
“Then you’re probably a good one to talk to,” Rory said.
“Maybe you can be more objective then anyone else.”
“I bet it was no one we knew,” Linda said.
“I mean, I can certainly come up with some ideas for who it might have been, but the truth is, it was summertime and Kill Devil Hills was hoppin’.
It could easily have been someone just down for the week. Or even the day. “
“That’s true,” Rory said.
“But I’m going to focus on the cul-de-sac for now. I’ll branch out from there.”
“Well, there was always Cindy Trump.” Linda turned to Jackie.
“They called her Cindy Tramp.”
“Ah,” Jackie said.
“She was unbelievable, wasn’t she?” Linda asked Rory.
“Honest to God.
Those boobs. I remember she got them when she was, like, ten, or something. And she wore this bathing suit, this one-piece—she couldn’t have been more than twelve—and when it got wet, it became sort of see-through. You could see her pubic hair through it, which really blew me away back then, ‘cause I was only about nine and barely knew what I was looking at. You could see her nipples and everything.
“
Rory had to laugh. He could feel the heat of the memory on the back of his neck.
“I’d forgotten about that bathing suit, although I can picture it now that you mention it. It was pink, right?”
“Lavender, I think. Close enough.”
“And I remember the bathing suits she wore later on.”
“God, yes.” Linda groaned, and he knew that she’d had the same visceral reaction to Cindy and her voluptuous body that he’d had.
“She’d wear these crocheted bikinis,” Linda said to Jackie.
“She was always real tan and she’d go prancing around on the beach leaving males lusting in her wake. And there I was, drooling from behind my book.”
“I never knew, Linda,” Rory said, shaking his head. “Never knew that you and I had so much in common back then.”
Linda laughed.
“Chloe was pretty hot back then, too,” Linda said.
“She was… sultry, with that long thick hair and those eyelashes.” “Sister Chloe?” Jackie asked.
“Oh, yes,” Linda said.
“Chloe and her cousin, Ellen. You know Ellen, who comes down every once in a while with her husband? The heavyset woman?”
Jackie nodded.
“Yes, Chloe was hot,” Rory agreed, “but she was always skinny as a rail. Except for….” He let his voice trail off. It felt odd to discuss Chloe’s body with women, and odder still to discuss the body of a nun.
“I know what you mean.” Linda finished the thought for him with a chuckle.
“Well, it sounds to me,” Jackie said, “that it couldn’t have been this Cindy Tramp person if she was always parading around in a bikini. How would she hide her pregnancy?”
“But that’s the thing,” Linda said.
“Daria found Shelly right at the beginning of the summer, and the week before had been totally shitty weather. So nobody was parading around in any kind of bathing suit. We were all bundled up that week.” Suddenly, she leaned toward Rory, a serious expression on her face.
“Rory,” she said, “I’m afraid to tell you who I really think Shelly’s mother was.”
He frowned.
“Why?” he asked.
“Who?”
“I always thought it was Polly.” There was an apology in her voice.
“Who was Polly?” Jackie asked.
Rory sat back in his chair, sinking his fingers into the fur on Melissa’s neck.
“My sister,” he said. Then to Linda, “Why would you think that?”
“It just seemed logical to me,” Linda said.
